


The Five Times Morgan Could Have Kissed Reid and the One Time He Did

by blueoleandar93



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueoleandar93/pseuds/blueoleandar93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hey, y'all. I love five and ones, so I decided to write one. The conversations in 3, 4, and 5 are all taken directly from the series, so I claim to own nothing but context for those chapters. Other than that, I feel that Morgan and Reid are so damned canon that it takes someone just showing you the exact lines from the show to prove it. So, I did. Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Five Times Morgan Could Have Kissed Reid and the One Time He Did

(1) You Very Strong, Strong Like Warrior

"Hands up! Come on, guys, up. Like you actually want to keep somebody from hitting you in the face!" Morgan instructed as the group feebly raised their hands above their heads. It's been fifty minutes already and he was making no leeway with this one kid in the back. Morgan knows this, because the little twerp's been looking at the clock every fifteen seconds, pleading for it to go faster with his eyes. As an FBI Self-Defense trainer, he's seen a lot of rejects, losers, and ne'er-do-wells cross this linoleum and every single one eventually (after months of hard work) came to prove themselves out on the field, including JJ. Lord knows that girl could barely break a toothpick in half when she started out, but now, she's an ass-kicking machine. But, from his place in the front of the classroom with five underwhelming, inexperienced (and in this kid's case, gaunt) scouted agents, he could pick out immediately which one should give up hope and never return. This skinny, little white boy was going to get himself killed on the first case he works on, Morgan can tell, and he can't wait for him to leave and bring down the luck of the team sad enough to get stuck with him.

The kid clearly had it in his mind that he couldn't do it and as a result was barely trying. After fifteen minutes, he'd given up, doing hardly the amount of work necessary to keep himself under the radar, but Morgan could tell. His carefully combed honey brown hair fell neatly to the back of his head and fit around his ears. His hair was unbearably neat which shows signs of either rigid upbringing, incarceration, or time spent in a locked facility. Since the kid looks too scared to shoplift a pack of gum and seems like he has his wits about him, Morgan's going to go with rigid upbringing. Sadly, his hair was the only neat thing about him. Morgan could tell in an instant that the kid couldn't give two shits about style. He wore a baggy pair of sweatpants that he overestimated the size on and a tee shirt he was swimming in that said "Caltech" on it. The shirt must have been borrowed since he is way too pale to have gone through the California school system. His cheeks were hollowed, and his fingers twitched at his sides. This kid must do nothing but read, write, and breathe. Damn. From the look of him, it doesn't even seem like he eats. Morgan's mother would have a field day feeding him, that's for sure.

The hour was finally up and the class began to file out, but Morgan pointed to that kid in the back, "Hey, you."

The kid looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time. Wow, they were almost caramel colored. The same as his hair. Is that even possible? Eh. Morgan shrugged it off as a genetic mutation of some sort. The kid pointed to himself, unsure if he was the 'you' in question.

Morgan nodded, "Yeah, over here. I need a word."

The last of the group had left the little room and closed the door as the kid approached him. Morgan asked calmly, "What's your name, kid?"

The kid stammered out, "R-Reid." He cleared his throat and completed, "Dr. S-Spencer Reid."

Morgan raised his eyebrows, "Doctor? Is that a joke or something? How old are you?"

Dr. Spencer Reid replied, "Twenty three."

Morgan asked, "Is it even possible to have a doctorate at that age?"

Dr. Spencer Reid corrected, "I-I have three."

Morgan paused, "…"

"…" Dr. Spencer Reid countered.

Morgan elaborated, "…"

Dr. Spencer Reid finally spoke, "When you graduate high school at the age of twelve, everything's possible."

Morgan grinned, "Oh, so you're like a super nerd?"

Dr. Spencer Reid laughed nervously, "One could say that."

Morgan folded his arms across his chest and smiled with mirth, "Well, that explains your poor excuse for hand-eye coordination."

"It might, I… I don't get out much," Dr. Spencer Reid said with a chuckle.

Morgan smiled. He likes this Dr. Spencer Reid. The look in his eyes is so innocent, it's nearly child-like. His height should be stalky, but on him it's nice. His lips are so full and shapen as if he talks a lot whether what he says is heard or not. It's almost cute. Morgan wanted to take him under his wing somehow. He knows what it's like to be the underdog, and it's always helpful to have a pal.

"That's all good, no problem," Morgan replied, "How about we work on that hand to hand, okay?"

"How hard can it be?" Dr. Spencer Reid nodded, leaning his hand forward to slip into Morgan's. It was warm, slender, and impeccably soft. Morgan blinked, "Dude. I meant combat. Hand to hand combat."

Dr. Spencer Reid yanked his hand from Morgan's and pushed his bangs behind his ear, his face slowly gaining color, "O-of course."

Morgan shook his head with a chuckle, "In what universe did you think it was okay for you to hold my hand?!"

Dr. Spencer Reid's face continued to gather color, "I… I don't know, I just thought…"

Morgan teased, "I don't discriminate, doc, but I could have sworn you were hitting on me."

Dr. Spencer Reid furrowed his eyebrows, "I never hit you."

"…oh, Lord, you're going to give my old patience a work out." Morgan began to laugh, "Let's start with a simple defensive stance. Legs apart, hands up."

Dr. Spencer Reid waddled uncomfortably, bending his knees and raising open palms. Morgan began to fix the posture, first, because boy did it need work. He closed his hands around Dr. Spencer Reid's smaller ones so that they fell into tiny fists and raised his left to shield his painfully beautiful face. Morgan cleared his mind of the word choice and decided to get closer, striding around to the kid's back, pressing his hands against his knees so that they were set straight with his right leg back further just a bit more. Then, Morgan ran a hand up the length of Dr. Spencer Reid's back, saying quietly, "Straighten your back and keep eye contact with your aggressor. If not, that shows a sign of weakness. Are you weak, Dr. Spencer Reid?"

Dr. Spencer Reid paused and replied, "You can call me Spencer if you like. The whole formal term is a mouthful."

Morgan shrugged, "Fine. Are you weak, Spencer?"

Spencer replied, "Yes, quite."

"Wrong answer," Morgan tapped the boy on the back of the head.

"Ow!" Spencer complained.

Morgan smiled widely from behind the boy, "Deep down inside, you very strong. Strong like warrior."

Spencer sighed, "With all due respect, Agent Morgan, I know I can't do this. Why are you pretending I can?"

Morgan answered simply, "I'm not pretending. I'm 100% sure you can do this. I have all confidence that you will get this down pat and become an exceptional agent. But, I can't do that alone. I need you on board as well. A teacher can only teach a student willing to learn."

Spencer nodded sullenly, "I know that."

Morgan raised his eyebrows and smacked the kid firmly on the surprisingly round rear, "Then prove it, Poindexter."

Spencer let out a quiet squeak at the violation and held up his hands, a blush still noticeable on his face as Morgan strode around him to show him more of what he had missed in class, "Now, I'm a bad guy. I'm coming toward you with nothing but my fists. What do you do?"

"Run away?" Spencer guessed.

Morgan replied, "No."

"Shoot you?" Spencer conjectured.

Morgan vigorously responded, "Hell no."

"Uh… block you?" Spencer replied with a little unease.

Morgan raised his thumb, "A+! Returning the unsub to the police with as few injuries as possible is key. And, we both know a strapping young man like yourself could kick his ass to Timbuktu."

Spencer's face darkened, "Agent Morgan…"

Morgan lifted his palms in surrender, "It's called raising you confidence."

Spencer looked away, "Well, you're making me uncomfortable with all of these comments."

Morgan grinned, "Are you upset about it?"

Spencer said timidly, "Kind of."

"Good! That's great!" Morgan clapped his hands in excitement, "Get pissed! Harness the angry and use it to give your blocks more stability! Would it make you even more upset with me if I hit you?"

Spencer mumbled, his arms falling to his sides, "Yeah… then again, nobody really enjoys getting hit…"

Morgan raised his fists, "You're right! So, I'm going to hit you."

Spencer whimpered, "Please don't."

Morgan took a step back to power the punch that was soon to come, "I'm gonna."

Spencer gasped, raising his hands above his head, "Come on, please!"

"Too bad! I'm doing it anyway!" Morgan forced his fist toward Spencer and it collided with a strongly placed forearm. Spencer had successfully blocked the punch, but at the same time looked as if he was going to burst into tears. Morgan grinned, "You did it! If you stop your mind for a moment and think with your body, amazing things could happen. Amazing things like self-preservation, which takes what you have already learned and protects you. So, you don't have to put your whole brain into it. Just relax, and remember what you've learned."

Glancing up at the arm that currently had a powerful fist sitting patiently on it, Spencer's shoulders relaxed, "I… I blocked that?"

Morgan nodded and removed his fist, patting him on the frail back, "Yeah, kid, good job. I'm proud of you."

Spencer's face broke out in a smile, "I did it."

Morgan began to chuckle, "That, you did."

Spencer raised his tiny fist to the air, "I did it!"

"Hold up, doc, you don't want to break this," Morgan reached up to the kid's fist to fix it, pulling the thumb outside from the index, middle, ring, and pinky fingers. That was a dangerous position to have your thumb in. If Spencer had actually hit something with that hand, that thumb would have splintered in half.

As Morgan was fixing the improperly formed fist into its correct position, Spencer slowly brought the hand to his chest so that it would be easier to detangle. Unfortunately, it also brought Morgan fairly close and his hand cradled into the senior agent's much larger ones within a matter of seconds. Spencer looked up into Morgan's eyes, his caramel ones wide and earnest. Morgan looked back. The kid was shaking, his face tinged with red and his eyes large and innocent. Morgan kind of wants to know if that blush extends past the kid's droopy collar. As his large hands dwarfed Spencer's, he paused. Wow, this was one of the most beautiful people he has ever come in contact with. His eyelashes were long, his hair growing disheveled and his face, puerile and delicate, begged to be smoothed, caressed.

Morgan felt himself entranced, leaning closer and closer to those flushed, pink velvet lips, wondering how they would feel against his. He really wasn't thinking and for some reason Spencer knew that as well. The doctor bent backwards at the final moment, unraveling himself from Morgan and running across the room to grab his bag. In a hurry, he whisked out of the door, saying as he left, "Uh, thank you very much for the lesson, I'll be back next Thursday!"

Morgan stared after the kid.

Crap.

 

(2) The Coffee Mug of Doom

There was quietness in the office that morning as Morgan walked in. Everyone was there and accounted for as far as Morgan could see, and he didn't really aim for anything other than the usual day. If there's no case, then there would be shitloads of paper work. Everyone should be looking at the very least as grumbly as they are. Morgan sat patiently, awaiting gossip from Garcia as she scurried over to his desk, taking a seat from the empty desk beside his, "Rumor has it, we're getting a new coworker today! Five bucks he's cute!"

"Okay, we get new coworkers all the time." Morgan rolled his eyes and took a sip out of his coffee, "And since when have I cared about whether or not a man was 'cute'?"

Garcia shrugged, "You don't. I do. Mama needs some man candy, my lovely chocolate Adonis, and since you're too blind to see that I am the perfect woman for you, I must search elsewhere."

Morgan began to laugh, "Baby Girl, you crazy. What have you been able to dig up on our new comrade?"

Garcia pulled a manila file out of her bag that said "CLASSIFIED" on the cover, "Well, this says Gideon searched him out and found him. He's apparently very promising and very smart. If I dug for anything else, it would have been illegal."

Morgan pointed at the file in her hands, "That looks pretty damned illegal to me."

Garcia shoved it back into her bag, "It's only illegal if you get caught and the online FBI databases pick up cookies and IP addresses, so I'd be screwed if I didn't grab a paper copy."

Morgan chuckled, "How'd you find that out?"

Garcia grimaced, "The hard way."

Morgan laughed, "Shocker."

"Excuse me, may I have everyone's attention!" Gideon's voice boomed out from the far corner of the room. Morgan and Garcia looked up to see their senior agent standing next to a very nervous, very mousy, very shocked looking young man who was giving Morgan strict eye contact. Fuck. Their boss continued, "Everyone, this is Dr. Spencer Reid, he will be working with us for the next few cases. He's new at this as well, so everyone, try not to give him too hard a time," Gideon said, locking eyes with Morgan for a moment, "He'll be in the bullpen with everyone else, so please make him feel at home on his first day. With that, I bid adieu."

As the tension in the room dissipated, Morgan tugged on Garcia's sleeve, "Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit."

Garcia replied, "What is it? What is it? What is it?"

Morgan hissed, "That's the kid!"

Garcia gasped and whispered quietly, "The one you trained and almost kissed? The one that bugged out, ran away, and never came back?!"

Morgan nodded, "That's him! Oh, God, I am fifteen different kinds of screwed right now."

"Oh… you mean to tell me that the beauty you were drooling over in the self defense room was him?" Garcia paused, "I was expecting… I don't know, some semblance of a bust line."

Morgan raised his eyebrows, "Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. Kid's a dude."

Garcia smacked his arm, "Well, no shit, Sherlock! Couldn't have told me you were a Kinsey 6 sooner?!"

Morgan growled, "I'm a Kinsey negative 6, okay! It's just… I don't know. Him."

Garcia sighed, "Yeah, well, your 'only exception' is working here now and he doesn't seem that okay with you. Look at where he's sitting."

Morgan tried to see it and ended up squinting. The desk he chose was damn near in Antarctica. This kid wanted to get as far away from him as possible. He put his head in his hands, "I fucked up."

Garcia rolled her eyes, "You think?! I mean, how would you feel if your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher treated you like Lily Potter?!"

Morgan ran his fingertips along his temples, "I'm not even going to try to understand your reference."

"Please tell me you've read Harry Potter," Garcia blinked.

Morgan shook his head, "Heard of it."

"Okay, well Defense Against the Dark Arts, taught by Severus Snape, is kind of like regular self-defense except with more magic and Lily Potter is probably a spitting image of Dr. Spinner Blah Blah Blah except with more…tits."

Morgan glanced up at her, "It's Dr. Spencer Reid."

Garcia gasped, "You remembered his name?!"

Morgan shrugged, "I'm telling you, Baby Girl, he's different."

"Hella different," Garcia chuckled, "What does he have, a champagne flavored—"

Morgan raised his finger to silence her, "Hush! What if he hears!"

Garcia laughed, "His desk is practically in the West Indies, my Chocolate God, he can't hear our conspiring minds. So, are you going after him?"

Morgan paused, "What…why?"

Garcia shrugged, "It's what you always do."

Morgan shook his head, "I can't, Mama, he's so out of my league he's… I don't know Jimmy Rollins! He wouldn't let me get within five feet of him, I promise you. He ran from me! He ditched the meetings! And my charm was on like, level eight!"

"Well, bump it up to ten." Garcia poked him in the forehead.

Morgan sighed, "It'll never work."

Garcia patted his arm excitedly, "And there he goes! If you're not going to hit on him, you'd might as well make it right between you two. I mean, look at this as a chance to… have him not look at you like you've won the Pervert of the Year award."

Morgan glanced over to the kid's desk again, seeing him walking toward the break room, an empty mug in his hand. His eyes strayed down to that plump rear highlighted by the belt he wore around his hips. Morgan felt hip lips perk up on one side as he turned his head to get a better look. Garcia yelped, "I said that assuming you weren't a pervert."

He said monotonously, eyes not moving from the doctor's backside, "I'm a guy. All guys are perverts. Oh, shit, is he a pervert? I hope so."

Garcia lowered her head and replied to him, "You're hopeless, you know that, right?"

"Man, oh, man," Morgan chuckled darkly as the doctor bent deep down to get search the bottom cabinets for something, "His ass is a thing of beauty." Garcia guessed that was his response since he didn't say much else. She rolled her eyes, stood, and grabbed his arm until he looked back to him and followed her as she yanked him into the break room. Complaining the whole way until he was in earshot, Morgan put on a plastic smile as they approached and the doctor turned, stirring something into his coffee. The kid gave him "deer-in-headlights" eyes for a moment and gulped, "Oh… hi."

Garcia stuck out her hand, claiming his immediate attention, "Hello! I'm Penelope Garcia, goddess of all that is technologically sound. Just thought I would introduce myself and bring my best buddy over here along to say hello as well since we'll be working together soon."

Spencer stared at the hand and bit his lip, "I…don't shake hands. You see, there are hundreds of diseases that can be contracted by shaking hands some as simple as the common cold and some as dangerous as influenza and MRSA. Bacteria can live outside the body for days, and if put in contact with them, one could get very sick very easily. Children contract the cold five to six times a year, while adults only become sick with it once or twice mainly because we don't touch strangers as often. It's more of a mix of self-preservation and evolution of the human form! Our bodies are learning quicker than our minds! Isn't that fascinating?"

Garcia paused and pulled her hand back slowly, "…okay."

Spencer pressed his hand to his forehead, "I'm sorry if I've 'creeped you out'. I've been told I do that more than I'd like to admit."

Garcia smiled pleasantly, "Actually, on you, creepy is endearing and almost cute," she glanced at her Hello Kitty watch, "Oh, crap. I promised Hotch I'd fix the virus on his computer. You two, uh…mingle! Bye!"

Morgan looked worriedly at her as she began to leave quickly, leaving the two in a room together. Spencer turned back on his heels and Morgan smiled, "We haven't introduced ourselves properly either. I'm—"

"Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan, unmarried, aged 32, born June 6th, 1973 in Chicago, Illinois. You have two sisters, one mother, and a deceased father. You graduated from Northwestern University and received a Master's degree after you injured yourself playing football. You also have a black belt in Judo and a dog." Spencer spouted.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, "Damn, kid, what don't you know?"

"Your shoe size," Spencer replied casually and added, "Sorry about your father by the way."

Morgan began to laugh, "You're something else, Spencer, you know that? Did you seriously dig up all of my information?"

A blush started to form along Spencer's nose, "Is that weird?"

Morgan nodded with a chuckle, "Just a bit."

Spencer lifted his hands in surrender, "I didn't mean to make you feel—" CRASH!

The coffee that was once in Spencer's left hand before he raised them was all over the floor as well as the now ruined mug. Spencer gasped, "I'm so sorry!" Morgan grabbed a hand towel and made a beeline for the floor just as Spencer fell to his knees to pick up the pieces of coffee.

As they squabbled to clean up the mess, Spencer's hand bumped Morgan's and Morgan ignored the tingles that rushed up his arm. Wow, that's hard to not think about. As he moved closer, he noticed that Spencer's shampoo smelled of cream. Hmm, maybe it's just the coffee. Morgan stared down at the mess. Yeah, that was definitely the coffee. There had to be a half quart of clumped goo in there.

"Seriously, kid, how much sugar can one man drink—" they looked up at the same time, their foreheads almost colliding. Morgan wondered for a brief moment if it was rude to look at Spencer the way that he did, before he realized that Spencer was looking at him that way too, his cheeks livid and his puffy, pink lower lip worried between his teeth. They stared into each other's eyes for a little while after that, their breathing falling into a similar rhythm as they looked. This is the second time Morgan felt himself wanting to do nothing more than take the kid by his face and press their lips together, but he didn't want to embarrass himself again. Spencer didn't seem completely disgusted by the idea of it since he seemed to be waiting for it. A bashful smile perked the side of his smooth looking lips as he closed his eyes gently, awaiting the touch. Morgan leaned forward. He could almost taste him already. "Ouch!" Spencer yelped and raised his hand to see a fresh cut springing from the broken ceramics. Perfect timing.

Morgan worried aloud, "Oh, you go wash that off. I'll clean this up."

"You don't have to, I…" Spencer pushed his soft looking bangs out of his eyes and stood with the pieces of his mug, "Thanks!" Their eyes met one more time before he scampered out of the room.

 

(3) The Archer

It was hard for Morgan to watch Spencer make out with Lila Archer. He grimaced and looked away from the scene, half praying that the stalking unsub would just kill her already.

Morgan smacked his own wrist.

Come on, dude, he thought to himself, that's wrong.

Obviously Spencer felt something for her, and she for him. Morgan folded his arms. This is crap. How can they be so passionately in love with each other, they've only known each other for a few days! That slutty actress doesn't know Spencer. Not like Morgan does. She hasn't stood beside him while the scariest monsters she could ever imagine materialized before him. She hasn't spent hours on the phone with him during those long nights when his sleep was plagued with nightmares. She hasn't sat there across from him for months, pining after him, lusting for every inch of that slender, sultry body. She doesn't know him. She never will.

Yet, there sat Spencer hours later, staring at their picture on the cover of a magazine. She must look beautiful in it. Damn her. Knowing that he's this pissed, Morgan has two options: snatch the magazine out of Spencer's hands like a jealous girlfriend and demand attention, or go all "wise old mentor" on the kid and tell him to go for it. Spencer seemed happy with her, and (as much as that made Morgan want to become their next unsub, murdering her and scattering her corpse across the Americas) he had to encourage it. Reid and that blonde bimbo would end up being happy together. Maybe.

So, Morgan decided to do neither and just leave.

Everyone was gone for the night anyway and there seemed to be nothing to say. Spencer's brain was working on its nightly overdrive and Morgan could almost hear the gears grinding in that big head of his. It was one of his favorite things about Spencer. The fact that the kid lived in his mind half of the time was extremely endearing. Breaking the kid out of his thought streak as he left, Morgan teased simply, "Night, Hollywooood!"

Spencer ran his hand along the side of his face tiredly, "Come on, man."

Morgan shrugged and decided to walk up to his desk, "You know, Reid. You're lucky they didn't get a shot of you next to the pool trying to dry your gun—you looked like a wet rat."

Spencer shook his head and glared over at Morgan.

"Hey." Morgan replied, getting closer in sincerity, "I was playin'."

Fretting with his fingers, Spencer mumbled out with a light shade of pink playing along his high cheekbones, "Did you know that she…uh… I kissed her in the pool. So weird, it doesn't even feel like it really happened. You know?"

Morgan knew. He could feel his heart breaking in his chest as Spencer stated it out loud, making it real. He slapped on a plastic smile, "Sure, sure. She's a beautiful young actress."

Spencer mused, still not all there, "Yeah. You know, I kept explaining to her about transference and the fact that, you know, she probably only liked me because I was there to protect her..."

Morgan stopped him there, telling him to his face, "Spencer. You were her hero."

"Yeah, I wanted to think that..." Spencer murmured.

Morgan shook his head, "No, no, no, don't go selling yourself short, kid. You took down an armed subject without firing a shot. You saved her life. That's pretty much a hero in my book."

Spencer glanced up at Morgan and then looked back down as if he was almost embarrassed to ask, "Let me ask you this, have you ever crossed your professional boundaries with a victim on a case you've been working on?"

Morgan replied simply, "No."

Spencer sighed self-deprecatingly, "It's pretty bad, right?"

"There's some things you can't control… even with that big ol' brain of yours." Morgan said, not at all talking about Lila until he caught himself and finished, "No harm, no foul. Let it go," and began to leave the room. He can't look at Spencer anymore. He's lost him.

Spencer stopped him with a, "Hey, Morgan?"

Morgan glanced over his shoulder and replied, "Yeah?"

Spencer looked away from him and stammered, ears going red, "Has… has there ever been a girl that you…well, wanted to be with for more than, you know, just one night?"

Morgan raised his eyebrows. What was this kid trying to ask? He replied, "Excuse me?"

Spencer's face grew an even more livid shade as he raised his palms in surrender as if he were trying to tell Morgan he wasn't saying what he thought he was saying, "I-I-I've never seen you... with the same girl twice."

Morgan began to laugh, "Wha', you calling me a dog?" This can't be going where it sounds like it's going.

Spencer fretted aloud, "No! No, not at all. I'm just trying to figure out if… this feeling I have is ever going to go away."

Morgan growled to himself. Of course. Lila. Morgan's emotions got the better of him for a moment as he replied, "Spencer, what we do for a living, it takes up all our time. And a relationship's hard enough even in the same city, not to mention on the other side of the continent."

Spencer sighed a sigh of relief, "So… you're saying it's probably wise that I don't call her, right?"

Wait, Spencer didn't want to call her? Then…what were they talking about? Did this have anything to do with Lila at all? Morgan shrugged and grabbed his bag, walking backwards toward the door. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. He replied as he started to leave, "I can't answer that one for you. But I can tell you what I do know. You don't need to come up with that answer tonight. I'm out."

Spencer waved an awkward hand. It was endearing as fuck. He mumbled, "Have a good weekend."

Morgan chuckled, "Yeah, you too, Romeo."

Spencer stared at the magazine and threw it out. Then he picked it up and grabbed his coat, running out after Morgan, "Hey, wait! Morgan, wait!"

Morgan stopped in the dark hallway, looking back at his young coworker, "Yeah—"

Spencer caught up to him and before either of them could take a breath, he grabbed Morgan by the collar and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Stepping away afterward, Spencer said shyly, "…thanks for the advice. I think I know what I'm going to do."

Morgan rubbed the back of his neck noncommittally, "What was that for?"

"Um… what was what?" Spencer pushed his hair behind his ears, face beginning to turn that lovely shade of pink as he feigned innocence and started off down the hallway. Morgan watched as he left. Damn. Moment's gone. He could have gone for it. But, he didn't.

 

(4) My Mama Says Elevators Are the Devil

There were three people so far who've been murdered by their greatest fears. Three people who have died as scared as they've ever been. Three people who've lost their life to their phobias. If they did nothing, the team was going to catch the culprit. Morgan, Spencer, and Hotch found themselves searching a psychiatric office for information, but before they could get there, they needed to get up to the office.

Sadly, there was only room for two in the elevator, and Hotch opted to take the stairs, leaving the two agents alone in a close, compacted space for longer than they normally would have been. They waited quietly, neither of them starting conversation seeing as the sexual tension between the two all but grew since the whole Lila thing those few weeks ago. They just never mentioned it and that seemed to be enough but them. Morgan thinking, "This couldn't mean at all what it seems. Spencer can't feel this way about me. He must have been talking about Lila." It's just a coincidence that Spencer never called Lila, never talked about Lila, and pretended from then on that Lila didn't exist. He must have been talking about her. Spencer never showed that he had something for Morgan in the three years he's worked here other than that really soft kiss in the hallway, but that was just thanks for good advice. Great. Now, he's gone thinking about Spencer again.

Morgan continued to deal with his internal dialogue as Spencer stood less than four inches away from him. That is, until the elevator lurched and then came to a stop. Morgan, impatient as usual, began to shift by jumping up and down on his heels, testing the weight around and making the elevator bounce a bit as Spencer stayed stiff beside him whimpering under his breath before he lost it and hissed out, "Don't do that."

Morgan asked, "Where's the key space? You know, the thing that starts the—"

Spencer sighed, "I don't know."

Morgan shrugged and started jamming his thumb into as many buttons as he could. Maybe one of these could help. Call the maintenance guy or something, because this elevator didn't seem to be moving any time soon. At least he did before Spencer started bitching at him to cut it out.

"Don't—stop it, don't!" Spencer snapped.

Morgan ignored him and continued doing what he was doing, "What? What's the problem?"

Spencer replied with an exasperated tone, "Don't do that!"

Morgan finally stopped pressing button after button, "Why not?"

Spencer replied, "Cause there are six elevator related deaths per year not to mention 10,000 injuries that require hospitalization, chill out!"

Morgan started to smile teasingly, "Sounds like pretty good odds to me, what are you scared?"

Spencer hollered, "I'm not scared! I don't want to be in an elevator with you to be honest!"

Suddenly, the elevator lurched again, sending them barreling a few inches down. The two held their breath and Spencer yelped. Morgan held his hands out to press against the sides of the elevator, "Whoa, whoa, okay."

Spencer tried to catch his bearings, instructing Morgan quickly to press the red alarm button that they've somehow missed this whole time. Spencer flailed his arm toward the button as Morgan began to pressed it, "Uh, hit the…"

The alarm started to sound and Spencer gasped, "Push it!"

Morgan yelled over to him, "I'm—push, pull! Push, pull! I'm doing it! Nothing's happening!"

Spencer yelled back, waving his arm around, "Pry… pry the door open!"

Morgan strode over to the door, trying to fit his hand between the door, yanking them to either side. It didn't seem to budge. He hissed at is as he pulled, "It's stuck, man."

Morgan stepped back from the door and the elevator dropped another few inches, tossing Spencer into his arms. The doctor clung to him, whimpering as Morgan whispered to any God that could be out there, "No, no, no, not today, no, not today." Spencer gripped harder and the elevator lurched again, shoving them closer together, their noses touching and Spencer's hand resting lightly on Morgan's stable chest. Morgan pushed Spencer's hair out of his face. Wow, it was softer than he'd imagined it to be. Spencer blinked into Morgan's eyes, his eyelashes framing those caramel orbs. How has he managed to get even more beautiful as time went on? He just gets lovelier and lovelier. He's such a pretty boy. Spencer whispered quietly, "I'm sorry for our proximity, I can m-move."

Morgan held up his hand to stop his flow of words.

Spencer let out a nervous laugh and then slipped his hand across his mouth, "I-I don't know why I'm laughing, this isn't funny." Morgan ran his hand down Spencer's soft cheek and pulled their faces close. Spencer's breath smelled like coffee. His eyelashes felt like silk on his cheek. Spencer please, Morgan thought, please kiss me… Their noses brushed together with a soft bump and Spencer closed his eyes, breathing in Morgan's scent. Spencer seemed like there was nothing he wanted more than to disappear in his arms. Morgan smiled, leaning in to seal the deal and—

The elevator jumped down again, propelling them apart. Morgan had half a mind to say 'screw death, I'm grabbing Spencer and we're finally going to kiss, godammit!' before Spencer squeaked out worriedly, "Hotch…"

Morgan began to yell for their boss to make the kid feel better, "Hotch!"

The door opened as Hotch strode down the hallway past them and Morgan darted out, raising his hand in thanks as he breathed, "Hallelujah!"

Hotch glanced back at his subordinates as Spencer walked slowly out of the elevator, breathing slowly, face beet red. "Was that the alarm?" Hotch asked, "Are you guys okay?"

Spencer glanced over at Morgan and looked away quickly, "I'll get back to you on that."

 

 

(5) We're Missing a Variable

Two years later, Spencer was distracted. Another rabid serial killer was on the loose, and this particular one liked stabbing. A lot. Like 40 times. After the victim was already dead. Although this was pretty bad, this wasn't the worst they'd ever encountered. And, if this was your usual, every day, run-of-the-mill serial killer case, Hotch, Rossi, and the whole gang would be halfway up Spencer's ass telling him to get his act together. But, this case was different. It hit close to home for the young doctor if for one particular reason: the profile heavily leaned on the fact that the murderer was a mild schizophrenic. Just like his mother.

All during the police briefing, Spencer was out of it. Morgan could tell as he fidgeted before the cops, giving only as much information was asked of him and as soon as it was over, he quickly fled the scene. Heading toward the PD men's room after him, Morgan already had something in mind to calm the doctor down: a firm talking to, gentle reassurance, and maybe a hug. Nah, scratch that. A hug was pushing it. No hug.

As he strode into the bathroom, he saw Spencer at the sink, head lifting from the water current as he shut it off. He must have known that Morgan was following him, and splashed water on his face to quell the tears that were bound to flow sooner or later. His back still to Morgan, he began to state distractedly, "You know that profile kind of makes it sound like schizophrenia leads to serial killing."

Morgan stepped over to him to stand beside the sink, "That's not what we said at all, kid."

Spencer continued to muse, "You know my mom has schizophrenia. There are many different types…"

Morgan shrugged, "I know that."

Spencer folded his arms and turned to lean on the sink, the areas under his eyes a deep, blotchy purple to brashly contrast the pallor of his skin and his newly shorn short shock of caramel brown hair. Yet, somehow, he didn't lose an ounce of beauty. The slight imperfection seemed to highlight his features and bring out the softness of them. God, Morgan wanted him. He couldn't get it out of his head nowadays and the sexual tension between them is almost strong enough to need a goddamn machete to hack through. Morgan's always been a man to think with the lower half of his body when lust came into the game, but… Spencer was different. After years, and years of sexual frustration, Morgan was pretty okay with the fact of Spencer's gender. It went much deeper than that. Spencer was fragile. He was young. He was sensitive. He was so. Damned. Beautiful. Spencer was classy. He was educated. He was extremely clever, and shit was it a turn on. He was everything Morgan wanted. And, when he sat down as a young adult and tried to picture the idea of him living a life with someone, they didn't have half of the traits Spencer carried. Then, as Spencer kissed Lila, he realized…when he had pictured perfect all those years ago… he was selling himself short because he knew then that he would never find someone as unique, and handsome, and perfect for him as Spencer was.

So, he held his guard and listened. That was all he could do. If he made a move too soon, or too early, there was a possibility that he could lose Spencer. And he loved him too much for that. He'd rather walk beside him, heart heavy with longing that he keeps locked up inside, because that is round about one million times better than never seeing him again. Morgan lives for the smile in Spencer's eyes when he walks in in the morning. Morgan embraces the soft blush that runs across Spencer's nose when he's being teased. Morgan lusts after the feel of Spencer's hair underneath his hand every time he rumples it like it's nothing. And, hell, he admits it. He's in love with him.

The doctor spouted, "Catatonic, disorganized… just because someone suffers from the inability to organize their thoughts, or can't bathe or dress themselves doesn't mean they're going to end up stabbing someone in the chest 30 times post mortem."

Raising an eyebrow at his statement, Morgan contemplated, "Reid, what's really going on?"

"Our unsub's hallucinations aren't fractured like a typical schizophrenic, they're vivid and clear, leaving me to believe that we're missing an important variable," Spencer's head snapped up, staring up at Morgan, "Rather than making crazy conjectures, I think we should be trying to figure out what it is!"

Morgan gave Spencer a concerned look, "You listen to me, I know this is a scary age for you. It's when schizophrenic breaks happen. Have you talked to anybody about this?"

Spencer broke eye contact. "Emily."

Morgan asked, "Have you seen a doctor?"

Spencer spoke unenthusiastically, "They all say I'm fine."

Morgan folded his arms across his chest, "Then why don't you believe them?"

Spencer replied eyes everywhere but Morgan's face, "Because predicting one's chances of developing a genetic condition are like finding a penny in an ocean. I have terrible headaches, I can't sleep at night, I can't focus on our cases, I… I only read five books last week."

Morgan began to smile. He's worrying just a tad too much. "Come on, kid, you've got to cut yourself some slack. You're also depressed about Prentiss, and I get it, we all are. I miss her every day. But, if your mind was splitting, do you think you would have realized that this team was missing a variable."

Spencer mumbled, "I'm just speculating that we are… I need to prove it."

"Then, you do that. The moment you are wandering the streets aimlessly? That's when I'll be concerned about you," Morgan watched as Spencer looked down fondly and ran his hand through that tousled hair, mussing it up a little more, "Come on, Pretty Boy. Let's get to work."

Morgan headed out of the bathroom, but before he could reach the door, he felt Spencer's hand on his arm. It was warm, and his fingers were long, slender things, snaking out like little pythons ready to strike. Spencer rarely touches people, and if he does, he makes sure to do it as lightly and insignificantly as possible. But, this grip, this touch…it wasn't like him. And that worried Morgan. The elder agent held his ground and turned in Spencer's grip, making sure to pretend that he can't feel it.

Spencer cleared his throat, "Mor…uh, Morgan?"

Morgan replied, "Yep."

"Thanks," Spencer said brokenly, leaning forward to place a hesitant hug around Morgan's waist. Morgan felt a small smile tip the sides of his lips as he wrapped his arms around the little fella. He really was quite small. Sure, he was taller, but only by two inches, goddamit! Morgan let out a laugh, "What's all this boo-lovin' for, kiddo, we've got a case to solve."

Spencer rested his head on Morgan's shoulder and breathed, "I just need a minute."

Morgan held him closer and replied quickly, "You can have as many minutes as you need. Hell, make it an hour. I'm not busy."

Spencer began to chuckle and mumbled into Morgan's neck, "You're weird."

Morgan laughed, "Never thought I'd hear the day when you said that to me!"

Spencer snorted, "Well, I think it enough."

Morgan reached his hand up from Spencer's back to flick him in the ear.

"Ow!" Spencer complained, leaning back to grab the side of his head, "You hurt my ear."

Morgan teased to Spencer's scrunched up face that was just way too adorable to be considered right, "You hurt my feelings."

Spencer grumbled, "You don't have feelings."

Morgan smiled lightly, "Yeah, I do."

Spencer glanced into Morgan's eyes and quickly looked away, his face turning to a row of blue urinals. Morgan touched Spencer's chin lightly and pushed his face back towards him. His chin was a little rough. Considering the facts that they'd been there all day and Spencer was a grown-ass man, it did make sense, Morgan just expected it to be smooth and soft. Instead, his face was warm and a little prickly. It was kind of a turn on. Spencer blurted out with his eyes shut, "Emily and I were talking about you about a week before she died and she said I should just conjure my balls from the lost tunnels of Chu Chi and ask you out already. But, then she was gone, and I didn't know what to do, and you were there for me when I was mourning, and all of those times I wanted to say it, I was too much of a loser to just come out and tell you that I… I have a massive infatuation with you and it doesn't seem like it will ever dissipate."

Morgan blinked, "You…you have a crush on me?"

Spencer sighed, face quickly gathering blood, "I said infatuation!"

"Oh, thank God." Morgan let out a huge breath of relief, hellbent on ruining the moment purely to make it more awkward for Spencer than it already was, "I've been lusting after you since I met you."

Spencer squeaked, "What?! You're kidding!"

Morgan continued on, "All this time I thought, maybe you wanted me too…but you seemed so disinterested."

Spencer hissed, "I kissed you! How much more interested can one get?!"

"Seven years ago, man. Don't treat it like it was last week." Morgan explained, "And it was on the cheek! Who are you, my grandma?! Rossi kisses me with more gusto, and he does that European thing. You know what I'm talking about. Both sides of the face. It's kind of nice, actually."

Spencer rolled his eyes, "You're getting off topic."

Morgan raised his hands in surrender, "Sorry."

Spencer shook his head and continued to bitch, "It was after hours, the hallway cameras switch to infrared after ten o'clock at night, and those ones are carefully inspected by the security team first thing every day. So, I took the safe route! It's not my fault that you acted like I didn't throw my heart out on the line—and by doing that, you broke it."

Morgan retorted, "I didn't see a heart out there to break! All I heard was Lila, Lila, Lila. Perky, Little Miss Perfect, Lila. Did you know that she's the only one you'd ever cross professional lines for? Did you know that she's the one your feelings will never go away for? Did you know that she rides on silver moonbeams and shoots rainbows out of her ass?! Because I sure do!"

Spencer paused and stared long and hard at Morgan, "…holy shit, you didn't know I was talking about you."

Morgan glared, "Why would you have been talking about me? You had just fucking made out with Lila in front of the entire team. You might as well have live-tweeted #hetero."

Spencer asked, "Live-tweeted?"

Morgan shook his head, "Someone needs to formally introduce you to the internet."

Spencer shrugged, "All in all, I was professing my love for you and you were near shoving me toward someone else, so that might have pissed me off just a little. And by a little, I mean an astronomical amount."

"Well, now that you told me you have a gigantic schoolgirl crush on me, scribble my name in your notebooks, and have your wedding dress all picked out, I guess I can safely say I'm sorry," Morgan teased.

Spencer sighed, "Apology accepted."

Morgan placed his hands on Spencer's waist, "So... do you want to skip around the office, hold hands, and share a smoothie?"

"Don't be a dick," Spencer blushed and poked Morgan in the chest, maneuvering around the strong arms that were joined loosely around his hips, "I have a feeling you don't take me seriously which is sad since I'm a highly qualified specialist in Chemistry."

Morgan chuckled, "Did you seriously just try to flirt with me by making a pick up line out of one of your PhD's?"

Spencer smiled bashfully, "Did it work?"

Morgan nodded, "I don't know how, but yeah. It's cute when you try to be normal."

Spencer challenged, "You think I'm cute?"

Morgan replied, "I do. I also think you're handsome, and sexy, and classy, and elegant, and way too smart to even look at me the way you said you did."

"I did say that, I do look at you, and… I fear I always will," Spencer's prodding finger traveled up Morgan's neck as he spoke, hand resting gently on the side of his face. He was shaking. God, he was so nervous. Morgan could feel it, the soft quivering in his hands, the tremor was so alike to the way had shaken when they first met. When their faces got close like they're getting right now. When their chests touched lightly the way they're touching right now. When they were so prepared to seal the deal in their first final kiss just like they are right now. Morgan could almost taste Spencer on him. He felt his warm coffee scented breath on his lips, his soft hands pulling him slowly closer, the ridges of his spine under his light shirt and cardigan. So close… almost there…

JJ's voice rang out, "Hey, Reid, are you in—" as the door burst open and the two jumped apart. She paused, "oh…" Spencer turning the knobs and pretending to wash his hands as Morgan leaned on the side of the sinks trying to look casual. It was a hot mess, and really quite obvious that they were about to do something non-work related before they were rudely interrupted.

Spencer raised his wet hand, face beet red as he replied, "Yeah, I was just—crap!" The soap squirted out from beside the water current as he pounded on it harder than he should have and it landed a couple inches from his zipper. Morgan tossed him a roll of paper towels and stifled a smile as Spencer hurriedly wiped at his pants. JJ began to laugh nervously, "I'm so sorry. I obviously intruded on a… private moment."

Morgan replied, "Well, that's for damn sure."

JJ stepped into the bathroom, grabbing a towel, "Here, I'll help—"

Spencer backed up a foot, eyes wide, "No!"

JJ rolled her eyes, "Come on, Spence, it was partly my fault anyway. I can—"

Spencer reinforced, "No!"

JJ moved closer, raising the towel in her hand toward him and Spencer backed up another foot, covering the stain with his hands and squeaking out, "No!"

"Oh… my God," her eyes clouded with understanding and she dropped the towel, backing slowly out of the bathroom, "I didn't know that you were… that you, um… I'll just… see you later."

Morgan snickered lightly as she left, "Man, you totally have boner."

Spencer groaned, pointing toward the door, "Get out."

Morgan mused, "My game must be on point. Oh, Morgan, you've still got it."

Spencer pointed harder, "Derek, please."

Morgan raised his hands in surrender, "I'm leaving, I'm leaving."

 

 

(6) Case Closed

The stab-happy case was finally formally over by day's end. Ben Foster was in custody, and after mountains and mountains of paperwork back in Quantico, everything was finally finished. The day had dragged on, and not many had said a word about it mainly because that wasn't the main problem. Morgan and Spencer were avoiding each other. Well…more like Spencer was avoiding him, and Morgan didn't want to draw attention to Spencer's ignorance of him. Morgan didn't really blame Spencer for dodging his attention after what had happened. They were so close to having a tender, fragile moment, only to have it ripped to shreds by a coworker stumbling upon something she had no business seeing.

Speaking of JJ, Morgan was getting rather odd looks from her. They weren't cruel or judging, just…misunderstood. These two aren't really skipping around the office holding hands, so the visage of the two of them together in such a way must have thrown her for a huge loop. Sadly, by the kindergarten style emails getting sent by the hour at the authorship of Garcia, JJ had been so shocked that she told her what she'd seen which Morgan did not appreciate. He glanced along the text of the most recent emails full of "oohs", "winked faces", and the lyrics to "Morgan and Reid Sitting in a Tree". Morgan did not appreciate her behavior in the slightest.

Earlier in the day, he sent back:

Garcia,

If you send me one more email, I'll cut up that friendship bracelet you made me two years ago and flush it down the toilet.

Love,

Chocolate Thunder

She had quickly responded:

My Mocha God of Caffeinated Love,

You're going to need better leverage than that, sweetheart! Remember, I have magical powers. What are the odds that there are cameras in police bathrooms…? Pretty high.

Love,

Goddess of Awesome

Mind you, that was at least a few hours ago. JJ's worried glances, Garcia's teasing emails, and two piles of case descriptions later, Spencer and Morgan were alone in the office for the first time since the Lila thing. Usually, Spencer books it out of the office if it gets down to the two of them, not wanting that moment to repeat itself. At least, that's what Morgan thought until this day. Spencer sat at his desk, lazily scribbling along an empty file with that adorably crooked handwriting of his.

Morgan looked down at his clear desk. If he was done, Spencer had to be. He stole another glance over at Spencer to see his brunette head inches from his paper as he was hard at work. Spencer's back was bowed a little over his desk, his arm squished underneath the weight of his fragile body as his pen worked with the power of a thousand suns until he popped his head up, wiping sweat off of his forehead with a tissue from the box beside his hand. Morgan watched as he missed a bead of the sweat in front of his ear. He kind of wants to lick it off. Is that weird?

Spencer glanced up and met Derek's eyes, smiling limply before clumping his papers together and separating them, "I'm done, finally."

Morgan grabbed his jacket and stood, "Wow, what a coincidence. So, am I!"

Spencer chuckled, "Oh, please. The marriage of Fiordiligi and Guglielmo was more of a coincidence!"

Morgan turned off the light on his desk and strode over to Spencer's, "The marriage of who?"

Spencer raised his pen to enthuse his point as Morgan got closer, "One of the major couples in Mozart's Cosi Fan Tutti. The main plot of the opera was the story of two men who believed their women would cheat on them if they left them alone for too long! So, they dressed up in costumes, pretended to be foreigners, and preyed on the other's girlfriend."

Morgan reached Spencer's desk and leaned over the divider, "That's kind of fucked up."

Spencer began to smile, poking the divider with the back of the pen, "Well, of course. Especially since the women decided to stick with the men they loved anyway, thus Fiordiligi and Guglielmo whom were my favorite couple in the story. I don't normally like romantics, but this one is very comical."

Morgan joked, "I'm almost interested. I would be fully interested, but since you ruined the ending..."

Spencer smirked, "The whole thing's in Italian and the playbill tells you anyway if it's showing in a country whose native tongue isn't it. But, if you choose to forget what I said entirely, the play has televised subtitles above the stage. 2011, you know."

Morgan nodded his head, "Okay. Maybe I'll consider it. Unlike the Indo-Russian battle hymns from the 1300's crap you usually spin, this actually sounds interesting."

Spencer replied, tapping the pen against his palm dismissively, "Well, it's playing in a theatre in Atlanta on Saturday if you're interested… I managed to get a ticket for myself, but they were a buy-one-get-one, and I had no one to go with so I was just going to sell it online. But, if you want to go, there's uh…there's this dress code and it's strictly formal wear. Even though, I'm not saying anything about the way you're dressed! You look nice. Really, it's just the rules, I can't change them." Spencer sighed and tapped the pen quicker against his palm, "Or…maybe this is too silly of me to ask! You don't like operas. Especially ones in Italian, I—"

Morgan paused and stood up straight, "Are you trying to ask me out?"

"Well, I…uh," Spencer stammered, the pen in his hand tapped faster and faster until it slipped out from between his fingers, "Oh, the pen…"

Morgan sighed, "Forget the pen."

Spencer looked back up to Morgan's face, "I'll try to."

Morgan took Spencer's hand in place of the pen. It was still just as soft and warm as he remembers it to be. Spencer's fingers threaded through his and Morgan held on, "I can't think of a better way to spend my Saturday night then watching a sexist Italian opera while strangled in a suit with you." Spencer met Morgan's eyes and he smiled a bit. The grip on his hand tightened a little. Spencer spoke, "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I really, really want to," Morgan said seriously, eyes soft and earnest as he spoke, hoping that his words could mean anything Spencer wanted it to. Morgan really, really wants to do everything. He really, really wants to go out with Spencer. He really, really wants to be able to call Spencer his. And right now? Morgan really, really, really wants to kiss him. So, he lifted the hand that was tangled up in Spencer's and laid it on his warm, pale cheek. Spencer's eyes closed softly, his eyelashes fanning out toward his porcelain cheekbones as a small smile played on his full, pink lips. He was so beautiful. Oh, God. Morgan doesn't think he can do this. It's been a pipe dream for so long, that he's actually chickening out and freezing. This cannot be happening.

Spencer kept his eyes closed and hopeful as he asked, "Everything alright over there? I could have sworn you were going to kiss me."

Morgan fretted, "I was… I mean, I am! I just… I don't know. It's been a long time coming."

Spencer began to snicker lightly, "Seven years, five months, and fourteen days to be exact."

Morgan replied simply, "And I'm choking."

Spencer's face broke out in a grin as he laughed, "Please just do it already, the suspense is killing me."

"Fine! One… two… ready?" Morgan asked.

Spencer chuckled, "Are you seriously counting down?"

Morgan shrugged, "Seemed like a good idea in my head."

Spencer shook his head with a smile and, eyes still shut pulled Morgan a few inches closer. That must have given him all the confidence he needed, because at that moment, nothing else mattered except for finally kissing Dr. Spencer Reid. Their lips met softly at a hesitant touch. Spencer's lips were just as soft as he imagined they would be. He was perfect. Morgan pulled back to take a look at his face. His lips were upturned in a quiet smile as Spencer murmured, "That was cute."

Morgan began to laugh, "Yeah… it was."

Spencer teased, pulling him in closer with his fingers digging into the cloth on Morgan's waist, "What are you, fourteen? Come here." His hands left Spencer's face to reconnect with his hips as Spencer's traveled slowly up Morgan's chest to wrap his arms around his neck, pulling them even closer. As their bodies connected, Spencer took a breath against Morgan's lips and their mouths devoured each other. Years upon years of hunger and starvation for the other came into play and, somehow, Spencer ended up on his desk, legs wrapped around Morgan's as Morgan's hands were threaded in Spencer's hair, nearly yanking. Before long, Spencer pressed his hand against Morgan's chest, breaking the kiss, "Okay, okay! This is getting way less tactful as I imagined."

Morgan wiggled his eyebrows, "We're alone in the office making out on your desk. We threw tact out of the window a good five minutes ago."

Spencer narrowed his eyes at Morgan, "I blame you for being so attractive."

Morgan winked, "You should."

Spencer sighed, "I swear to God, I'm not a slut."

Morgan almost choked on the laughter he didn't see coming, "I never said you were a slut."

"I know. I did. It's just…" Spencer's fingers traveled along Morgan's chest since they were there and spoke after a good long minute, "I kind of want to ravish you. All over the floor. And the desk. And the chair. Oh, holy Schrodinger, the things I want to do to you on this chair…"

Morgan nodded, getting into it as he said honestly, "I will do anything you want. Seriously, man. Anything."

Spencer pounded a light fist on Morgan's chest as he argued weakly, "But, I'm not that kind of guy. I wish I was, but I'm… I'm sorry."

Morgan whimpered, "I'm sorry too."

Spencer offered, "Third date. Maybe."

Morgan flirted, leaning down to nip softly at Spencer's neck, "I know ways around sex. We barely have to do anything, and I can give you the best orgasm you've ever had."

Spencer groaned, "You son of a bitch…"

Morgan pressed a kiss under Spencer's jawline, "Wanna?"

Spencer held his guard, "I want to so very much, but I shall not give in to the desires of the flesh…tonight."

Morgan kissed the soft skin underneath Spencer's ear, "You tease."

Spencer laughed, "Says the guy sucking on my ear."

"Hmm?" Morgan said around Spencer's earlobe.

Spencer asked through a laugh, "What?"

Morgan pressed his nose against Spencer's with an understanding grin, "I'll wait as long as you want. I'll wait forever if I have to, surviving only on the menial one kiss every seven years."

Spencer chuckled, "Okay, that might be a bit much."

Morgan sighed out, "Oh, thank God."

Spencer held his hand out, "So, I understand that you're not Guglielmo, but… are you going to court me, or what?"

"Okay," Morgan replied, taking Spencer's hand in his and shaking, "You've got yourself a deal."

END


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